


Girls’ Night

by breathtaken



Series: Girls’ Night [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: Cunnilingus, Foursome - F/F/F/M, Multi, PolyRole (Background) - Freeform, Polyamory, Sleepovers, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22516597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathtaken/pseuds/breathtaken
Summary: “Sure, Sam.” Laura rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “You can come to girls’ night.”“If you wanna join us watching rom-coms and talking about our crushes,” Marisha jokes.He smiles and asks, “Do you practise kissing as well?”
Relationships: Laura Bailey/Ashley Johnson/Marisha Ray/Sam Riegel
Series: Girls’ Night [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764157
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	Girls’ Night

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, don't share this.

Sam’s in the kitchen, getting a drink from the fridge as Marisha and Laura walk in, Marisha saying, “Now Ash is back for good, we should have a celebratory girls’ night.”

“Just let me know when,” he pipes up, and when they both give him looks, adds in his Nott voice, “I’m one of the girls too now!” 

“Sure, Sam.” Laura rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “You can come to girls’ night.”

“If you wanna join us watching rom-coms and talking about our crushes,” Marisha jokes.

“And doing each other’s makeup,” Laura adds, though from her tone of voice Sam isn’t sure if she’s trying to put him off or egg him on.

He smiles and asks, “Do you practise kissing as well?”, and pouts and rubs his arm where she punches it.

Of course, after that he’s thinking about it, which is – not as bad of him as it could have been, given how they’re all a little less than entirely monogamous these days, though it’s all still _ very _new and more than a little nebulous; he doesn’t know if any of the ladies have actually kissed each other or would even want to, and whether they’d want to do it in front of him is another question entirely.

He half-expects nothing further to come of it, but that evening Laura adds him to a group chat and they fix a date for a good old-fashioned sleepover the next Saturday evening. It gives him time to buy a mascara and an eyeliner, because he thinks he remembers that sharing them can give you pinkeye, and his wife laughs at him when he asks her what to wear.

No-one’s said anything more about his kissing comment, but he asks her about that too, just in case. 

He makes sure to drop in a mention of girls’ night on Thursday just to see if he can get a read off of anyone, but Matt and Travis just seem amused by the whole idea – and Laura’s always thinking of something dirty, which ironically makes her practically unreadable when you want to know if she’s thinking of one dirty thing in particular.

He could just ask… but he kinda likes the uncertainty.

It feels like Laura’s being more tactile with him tonight than usual, but not to the extent that he couldn’t just be imagining it; though there’s no mistaking the couple times he catches Liam giving him searching looks, and so Sam isn’t surprised when after the game, he leans over and says, “Laura told me you want to practise kissing on Saturday.”

Everyone else is talking around them, though that doesn’t rule out the possibility of anyone listening in – but it’s also not like this was supposed to be clandestine.

So he puts on his best pout and replies, syrupy-sweet, “I just want to be good for you, baby.”

Liam grimaces, though Sam can see the grin he’s struggling to suppress. “Free advice: if you want someone to kiss you, don’t make that face at them.” His expression softens. “Anyway. I hope you enjoy yourselves.”

There’s something about the way he says it that makes Sam realize: Liam is giving his blessing. Which in turn makes him realize, too late, that he probably should have asked for it. 

He doesn’t really know what the rules are here, is the problem. He tells Quyen everything, of course, because she’s his wife and has the power of veto besides; but within their family they’ve only agreed that it’s possible things may get a little more than strictly platonic, and have left it up to the people involved to work out the details. He doesn’t actually know for sure who’s done what with whom, or is thinking about it, or if he needs to clear it with Liam first when _ he’s _ thinking about it.

Liam puts a hand on his wrist, no doubt seeing Sam’s entire thought process play out on his face. “I want you to go have fun,” he stresses, and seeing his expression, Sam can’t doubt it. “However the evening works out. But – I’d like to know where you’re at? If that’s okay?”

“Of course. You’re still my favorite.”

“I should hope so. And I’ll do the same for you. I’m hoping one of these days Matt will agree to come look at my etchings.” 

Liam says the last part a lot louder, and Sam laughs when Matt replies, “If you play your cards right,” trying and failing not to sound rattled.

On Saturday evening he packs wine, fancy popcorn, his toilet bag - snagging a berry-colored lipstick from his wife’s dresser for good measure – and pyjama pants, and sends Liam a picture of a pink satin babydoll with a fur trim and the words, _ Too much? _

_ Only a lot, _Liam replies immediately, and Sam smiles to himself and sends him back a winky face emoji.

He arrives at Matt and Marisha’s twenty minutes later, and Marisha answers the door in what’s probably one of Matt’s hoodies and a pair of leggings that look like a bad trip, and monster feet slippers complete with little claws. She gives him a warm hug hello and leads him through to the kitchen, where Ashley’s busy assembling a massive dish of nachos, and Sam pours them both drinks and then lets himself be put to work. 

As he’s mashing avocados for guac, he asks, “So is this what you normally do for a girls’ night?”, and pretends to miss the look they give each other.

“Normally we just go to a bar,” Marisha replies, as she chops a lime in half and starts juicing it with gusto. “But we wanted to give you the full teenage girl sleepover experience at least once in your life.”

“Or the adult spin on it, anyway,” Ashley adds. “We never ate this good. Or drank this good.”

“It was more like frozen pizza, chips and whatever you could swipe from your parents’ liquor cabinet and soda.”

“Or Bacardi Breezers, if you were lucky. And putting on movies all night and just talking over them. Gossip, who had a crush on who.”

“I don’t think it’s any secret who I’ve got a crush on,” Sam quips.

“And makeup experimentation. Remember body glitter?”

“I brought body glitter,” Ashley replies, and Sam hides a smile when Marisha actually _ squeals. _

“I hope you’re ready to go full nineties nostalgia, ‘cause I think I still have Cruel Intentions on DVD somewhere.”

“I’m not sure I’ve seen it,” Sam says, and Marisha gives him a look that’s half way between disbelieving and offended.

“Sarah Michelle Gellar. Reese Witherspoon. I think it was at least fifty percent of my teenage sexual awakening.”

There’s nothing like Marisha talking pop culture to make him feel old. It reminds him that she wasn’t even a teenager until after the millennium. “Mine was Paula Abdul.”

Marisha snorts. “What even _ were _ the eighties.”

“I can’t answer that, and I was alive for them,” Sam tells her, as the doorbell rings.

“Ooh! Laura’s here!” Ashley sing-songs before going to get the door; Sam raises an eyebrow at Marisha.

“I – might have told Ash that I like Laura a little bit,” she admits, and the whole thing’s so adorably teenage that Sam might think it was a bit, if he didn’t know better.

“I don’t think anyone would blame you.”

Laura sweeps into the room before Marisha can reply, kissing both of them on the cheek, which is unusually effusive for her, and there’s a special twinkle in her eye that Sam doesn’t think he’s imagining.

“Sorry I’m late, I couldn’t get Ronin to settle. I hope I haven’t missed too much.”

“Nah. We were just talking about our crushes,” Sam says as he pours her a glass of wine, feeling Marisha’s eyes on his back. 

“Oh yeah? Who’s your crush then, Sam?”

“You, of course.” He turns, and presents her glass with a flourish. “Why do you think I crashed your party?”

She laughs as she takes the glass from him, fingers brushing his in a way that seems thoroughly deliberate. “I thought you were one of the girls now?”

They all change into their pajamas before dinner, which is an unholy mashup of nachos and quesadillas put together by Ashley, that Marisha and Laura speak of with a reverence that Sam privately isn’t sure it deserves. He loads his own portion with salsa and guacamole, which technically count as vegetables, and settles down next to Laura on the couch, Ashley on her other side and Marisha in the armchair. Marisha’s put on Cruel Intentions as promised, and when Sarah Michelle Gellar starts teaching the other girl how to kiss, Sam thinks he sees why.

Not that they could be accused of actually _ watching _ it; he discovers that Marisha has a habit of periodically exclaiming, “Oh, I love this bit!”, and dragging their attention back to the screen for ten seconds before she starts talking again, outlining the five wonderfully crazy-sounding ideas she’s juggling for next season’s programming as they all try to yes-and every single thing that comes out of her mouth.

She gets up halfway through the movie, clicking the overhead light on when she comes back a few minutes later with a giant toilet bag and a set of curling tongs. “Makeup time!” she announces, brandishing the tongs in a way that Sam finds mildly concerning.

“I wanna do Sam,” Laura says immediately, patting his thigh.

“You can do me however you like,” he replies, reaching out and brushing a bit of popcorn off of her collar, and the look she gives him in return is pure mischief.

He’s impressed by just how much _ stuff _they all have – certainly more than Q, who’s never worn that much makeup, and half of it he doesn’t even recognize. Laura quickly takes charge, and he obediently closes his eyes and listens to her talking to the others about bases and primers and other things that he doesn’t really know what they are while she rubs her fingers over his eyelids in gentle circles, followed by the strokes of a brush that go on long enough for him to start getting bored.

When she finally says, “Open your eyes,” he looks past the sex scene on the TV to where Marisha is sat almost in Ashley’s lap on the floor, wielding a small brush of her own with fierce concentration – then says, “Now look up,” adjusting the angle of his jaw.

He keeps his eyes on the ceiling as Laura does his eyeliner, then mascara, before sweeping over everything with a large fluffy brush. “There!” she says with satisfaction, holding up a small mirror so he can see her handiwork.

The effect is – dramatic for sure, shades of gold and deep green eyeshadow that make his eyes look very blue, and kind of like they’re someone else’s eyes that have been stuck on his face. “Wow,” he says, for lack of a better response.

Even though it sounds inadequate to his own ears, Laura preens. “They’re Nott colors,” she says proudly, swiping her thumb over his cheek.

“I love it. Now I want to do you in Jester colors.”

She gives him an unimpressed look, cocking her head towards the others. “Okay, but I want you to watch and learn first, before I let you anywhere near my palette.”

Marisha’s just finishing smoky eyes on Ashley when they crowd around, and Sam helps Laura make Marisha up in Keyleth-themed peach and olive green, hiding a smile when Laura reaches out and rubs body glitter all over her chest and shoulders, fingertips grazing the neck of her tank, before doing Laura up in dark blues and purples with only a little guidance from the others. It’s pretty fun, and doesn’t even look too crappy when he’s finished. 

When she leans in for a selfie, he poses obligingly before saying, “Who’s this for?”, just in case she’s planning to put it on Instagram.

“For Liam, of course. He wanted to see how you look all dolled up.”

“Ooh, kinky,” Sam says automatically, and grins when she swats him on the arm. “You two talk about me a lot, then?”

He’s fishing, and she knows it. “You’re our favorite subject.” She drains her glass. “Did we bring the bottle through?”

“No, but I’ll go get it,” he says, already unfolding his legs from the couch.

When he comes back Heathers is on the TV, the volume down low, and Marisha is sat at Laura’s feet as she curls her hair, eating popcorn out of the bag.

He tops everyone up, and as he’s sitting down again Ashley says, “We were just saying, we should play a game.”

“Sure. What’s an appropriate game for a girls’ night in?”

“Well, drinking games.” Ashley’s already shaking her head. “But I think we’re too old.”

Sam winces. “I’m over forty and I have kids who will require my non-stop attention for all of tomorrow. I do not have time for a hangover.”

“And my alcohol tolerance is worse than Travis’ right now,” Laura agrees. “So. There’s Fuck Marry Kill, but I think too many of us are actually married for it to work.”

“Truth or Dare?” Marisha suggests.

Ashley’s nodding. “It’s a classic.”

“Truth or Dare it is,” Laura decides. “You take turns to spin a bottle, right? And whoever it lands on has to choose truth or dare?”

“Or roll a d4,” Marisha says.

“Let’s keep it old school,” Ashley says, getting up, and coming back thirty seconds later with their first, now-empty wine bottle. “Everyone on the floor, then?”

“You could at least buy me dinner first,” Sam quips, and he laughs when she raises an eyebrow and replies, “Bitch, I _ made _ you dinner.”

They push the coffee table off to the side and sit in a circle on the floor: Laura’s to Sam’s right, Ashley to his left and Marisha opposite, in all her glittering glory, and when Ashley places the bottle in front of her Sam feels an echo of his teenage self, all teeth and limbs and nervous excitement.

He briefly considers texting Liam, then decides that this is girls’ night, and girls’ night is sacred.

“Okay. Youngest starts, then go clockwise?” Ashley asks, as Marisha’s already reaching for the bottle, and giving it a powerful spin.

When it lands on Ashley, she immediately says, “Truth.”

“Okay. Uh. What was the most ‘New York’ thing you did in New York?”

“Probably getting into a cussing match with a truck driver for unloading in what was apparently his parking space. That was pretty New York. Otherwise I spent most of it working or sleeping.” She shrugs. “Laura?”

“Yep.” 

Laura spins the bottle – and it stops pointing straight at her.

“I think you have to do a forfeit if that happens.”

“Like what?”

“Pass me that eyeliner?”

Ashley takes Laura’s jaw in one hand, and draws her a suitably pointy Captain Hook mustache.

“How do I look?” Laura asks once she’s done, tossing her hair like she’s in a shampoo commercial.

“Gorgeous,” Sam replies, because she always _ is, _ whether she’s just come from the Game Awards or is wearing pajamas with half-curled hair, wonky eye makeup and an eyeliner mustache.

He’s expecting something silly – a Vex wink perhaps, or an eye roll – but for a moment she smiles like she knows he means it.

“Okay. Take two,” she says, reaching out and spinning the bottle again.

This time when it stops, it’s pointing more or less at Sam.

“Truth.”

“Alright.” Oh boy, he knows that grin. “When did you realize you _ liked _ Liam?”

“Well. Um.” He considers making a husbands joke for about half a second before deciding against it. “Probably while making out with him the first time?”

“Story!” Marisha demands, lying on her front and propping her chin in her hands.

He looks at Laura, and she nods. “Story rule. If someone says ‘story’, you have to tell the whole story, no omissions.”

“Okay. So when you first told us about you, Matt and Taliesin.” He looks at Marisha. “I went home to Quyen and I said, open marriage, that’s pretty crazy right? And she said, is it?” He smiles, a little self-consciously. “And we had a long talk about it. But I was still pretty sure it wasn’t something that was ever gonna – be relevant? And then Liam told me what he’d got up to with you and Travis.” 

He looks at Laura now, and she’s giving him that mischievous grin he knows so well.

“And I thought okay, this is bigger than I realized, and then after we all sat down and talked about it I thought, okay, it’s everyone _ except _ me.” She waves her hand in a _ come on _motion. “Easy. I’m getting to the juicy details.”

Ashley prompts, “So did he ask you, or…?” 

Sam laughs, and confesses, “He knew that if he’d asked me to – to like, have a _ relationship, _or even no strings sex, I probably would have completely freaked and shut him down. Because that wasn’t how I thought of myself. But he said he just wanted to make out. To see what it’d be like. And I thought, well, I have this hall pass now, it’ll probably be funny. And it was – actually kind of amazing?”

“Aww!” they all exclaim in unison.

“And _ then _ I freaked, and bolted. Luckily I had my wife to help me get my head out of my ass. And then – we decided we were gonna see where it went.” 

He shrugs, but he knows his smile’s giving him away.

“So not as straight as you thought?” Laura asks, and there’s something about the way she says it that makes him fairly sure she’s already heard Liam’s version of this story.

“Honestly? I still think of myself as straight. Even though I know it makes no sense, seeing as how my husband’s now my boyfriend and all. But I’ve never been into any other guys, so. I guess he’s my exception?”

“Oh yeah. He’s pretty exceptional.”

He knows very well how Laura looks when she’s thinking of something dirty – and Sam’s never really thought about what she and Liam and occasionally Travis have gotten up to together, because he’s a respectful friend and also not remotely into Travis, but suddenly he _ really _ wants to know.

He turns and reaches for his glass to stop his expression giving him away, but when he turns back they’re all still looking at him.

“Your turn, Sam,” Laura prompts.

“Oh. Yeah.”

This time the bottle lands on Marisha. 

Before she can even open her mouth, he says, “I hope you’re planning on saying ‘truth’, because now I want _ your _ story. The unabridged version.” 

“Haha. Okay.” Marisha drains her glass. “So. When I met Matt it was like – boom. Instant attraction. And then we got together, and fell in love.” Her eyes are sparkling, and Sam knows all too well what it is to feel that way about someone. “It actually took me a long time to realize that Tal and Matt might be super close friends, but there was always a bit of – unresolved tension there as well. And I thought okay, well Matt might like Tal like that too, but he loves me. And if he only wants to let it out on the playa and ignore it the rest of the year –”

“Thanks, Burning Man,” Sam teases.

“I mean, yeah. Clichés are clichés for a reason.” She grins, but it quickly fades. “And then this year, we had this _ amazing _ night together, the three of us – and the next morning Tal said he couldn’t do it any more. That it hurt too much. And Matt was devastated, and I – I did the only thing that made any sense.” She sets her jaw, and Sam can almost imagine her in that moment, the fierce and determined Marisha he loves. “I said, let’s do this for real. And then we barely left our tent for two days.”

“True love,” Ashley says, reaching out and squeezing Marisha’s shoulder.

“Yeah. It kind of is. In a very different way than I feel about Matt, but – I can’t imagine my life without him either.” She sits up, crossing her legs. “Ash. You’re up.”

“Okay.” Ashley spins the bottle, and it lands on – “Marisha. Again.”

“I just went!”

“And now you’re going again,” Laura replies.

“Okay.” She grins. “Dare.”

When Ashley says, “Make out with Laura,” Sam wonders if Marisha had forgotten the ammo she handed them earlier, or if this was her plan the whole time.

He certainly can’t find any hesitance in her expression as she shifts eagerly onto her knees and leans in, Laura meeting her half way, one hand cupping the back of Marisha’s head and drawing her into a kiss.

When he shares a look with Ashley, it’s clear that this was _ her _ plan the whole time.

He isn’t sure if he should be watching or not – this is for Marisha, not for him – but a moment later they’re already pulling away, both smiling a little awkwardly.

“Your go, Marisha,” he says.

“Okay.”

She spins the bottle, and it lands on Ashley.

“Truth. I think.”

“Okay: out of all the guys, who would you most like to get with?”

“Haha.” Ashley scrapes her hair out of her face, clearly a little embarrassed.

“Do I count?” he asks.

“Not including Sam,” Laura clarifies, and gives him a mock-stern look when he makes a noise of fake outrage. “You can’t have it both ways.”

He grins. “Are you sure, because it’s been working out _ pretty well _ for me the last couple months…!”

She laughs and pokes him in the ribs, ignoring his noise of protest. “Ashley.”

“Yeah. Okay.” The reason for her hesitance becomes immediately clear when she says, “Travis? It’s a barbarian thing,” she adds defensively, as Laura smirks.

“He is jacked,” Marisha points out.

“That doesn’t hurt,” Ashley concedes.

“Don’t worry, I’m flattered on his behalf,” Laura says sunnily. “And I won’t tell him unless you ask me to.”

“God, no,” Ashley groans, running her hands through her hair again, and it’s kind of adorable how flustered she’s gotten. “Please don’t. I think I need to work up to it.”

“Sure. I’m pretty sure he’ll be interested, if that helps?”

“I mean, he has eyes,” Sam agrees, and when she looks at him skeptically, “Just channel some of that classic Sam Riegel confidence and you’ll have him eating out of your hand.”

“Talking of.” Laura nudges him. “Just how much pussy did you actually get in college?”

Sam laughs. “This is gonna sound like a brag, but I don’t really remember? Seriously!” he insists, as they all scoff at him in unison. “It was more than twenty years ago, I met a lot of pretty girls, and I used to ask them if they wanted to get to know me better. Most of them just laughed at me, but some of them said yes. And then I – didn’t call them back. I’m not saying I wasn’t an asshole,” he adds hurriedly. “But I wasn’t notching my bedpost or anything.”

Ashley asks slyly, “So did you have a reputation for trying or for succeeding?”

“Mainly for trying,” he admits. “You know, Laura, I don’t remember you actually spinning that bottle.”

“Guilty,” she replies, entirely unrepentantly. “I think it’s your go.”

“Alright.”

And as fate would have it, when he spins the bottle, it lands squarely on her.

“Truth.”

He puts on his best shit-eating grin and asks, “So just how much pussy did _ you _ get in college, Laura Bailey?”

She laughs, but it’s forced, and he understands why a moment later when she says, “Actually, I’ve never been with a woman.”

So of course he smiles even wider and asks, “Would you like to?”

A moment of indecision passes across her face before she says, “Yeah, I would. With the right person. I just – by the time I realized it was something I might want, I was already with Travis. So until recently I didn’t think it would ever be on the table.” Both her hands are wrapped tightly around her wine glass. “Is it just me, or is this whole thing kinda terrifying?”

“_Yes,_” Marisha says with feeling, before Sam can reply. “_So _ terrifying. Even if you’re not strangers to – sharing, with other people. This is _ us._”

“Before Liam, I hadn’t slept with anyone else for more than ten years. At first it was so fucking _ weird, _ you know?” Her expression softens as she look at Sam. “But then it just – clicked.”

Just as softly, Sam replies, “He makes it easy.”

There are a few moments of silence before Ashley says thoughtfully, “Sounds like I need to ride that Liam train.”

Then they collectively lose their shit.

Half a minute later Sam’s wiping away his tears, realizing a moment too late that he’s just smeared his eye makeup everywhere. “Oh fuck. Whoops. Sorry, Laura.”

“Oh Jesus,” she says, still giggling. “Lucky for you, we have wipes.”

He grins. “I’ll do you if you do me?”

“Promises, promises.” 

She reaches for the wipes and gets right up into his space, one hand on his jaw and the fabric cool and gentle over his tired eyes, and he ghosts a hand over her hip with his eyes still closed, more out of instinct than anything else, and says, “I’ve never made a promise I don’t intend to keep.”

When he opens his eyes she’s giving him a look that’s newly speculative, and behind her he can see Marisha looking too, her eyes wide. 

And Ashley has her hand on the bottle, and spins it.

“Marisha,” she says, voice too loud in the new tension of the room, and Marisha’s barely turned to look when she continues, “Make out with me.”

And Marisha doesn’t need asking twice, as she closes the gap between them and kisses Ashley without hesitation.

This time, he watches: there’s nothing gentle about this, nothing exploratory, like the way Marisha kissed Laura. This is bolder, hungrier, and fucking _ hot, _ and it’s okay to stare if they’re doing it right in front of him, right?

“Oh my God,” Laura breathes beside him, and he just nods, “Yeah.”

Then she turns to him, that same new light in her eyes, and says, “Guess we’re doing this, then,” and a moment later her lips are on his. 

Laura kisses like a woman who knows what she wants, and when she climbs into Sam’s lap and he leans back she follows him down to the floor, thighs clamped around his hips and her hair framing their faces, and his hands map the curve of her waist as she opens her mouth.

When they finally break for air, he holds her jaw in his hand and says, “I don’t think you need any practise.”

She laughs, sweet and open, and in this moment he can’t imagine ever denying her anything.

And then he looks over:

Marisha is in Ashley’s lap, legs wrapped around her waist, letting out a sharp breath of air as Ashley kisses her way down her neck.

He says, “I think everyone in this room is thoroughly proficient.”

Laura raises an eyebrow. “What makes you think _ we _ need _ your _ seal of approval, and not you need ours?”

He smiles. “Just tell me how to earn it.”

For a moment she just looks at him, considering – and then says, “Upstairs.” She turns to the others. “Right?”

“Yeah.” Marisha’s already scrambling out of Ashley’s lap as Sam releases his hold on Laura, smiling when Marisha steps over and pulls Laura up into a brief, hard kiss, hands tangling in her hair, then turning to look over her shoulder at him and Ashley. “Follow me.”

“Be there in a moment,” Sam calls out after them, and instead of following up the stairs he swings by the kitchen to grab a big bottle of water; when he finally makes it up to Matt and Marisha’s spare room, Laura is sat on the edge of the bed with Marisha standing between her legs, leaning over her, and Ashley has pulled Marisha’s hair to one side and is kissing the nape of her neck.

Sam shuts the door behind himself.

When they all look at him, he hefts the water bottle in the crook of his arm and says, “Gotta stay hydrated.” He pauses. “Room for another one?”

Ashley smiles. “Yeah, I think so,” she says, turning half away from Marisha, taking the bottle from Sam and putting it down on the nightstand before stepping into his open arms.

You don’t know how something’s gonna go until you try, but Ashley kisses him with as much confidence as Laura did, her mouth opening easily beneath the pressure of his tongue; and when she leads him to the edge of the bed he goes, climbing into his lap and pushing him down onto his back, and he groans when her thigh slides between his.

He runs his hands up her sides and beneath her pajama shirt, cupping her breasts through the satin of her bra. When he circles her nipples with his thumbs she moans into his mouth, and so he does it some more, turning his head as Laura lands beside him on the mattress, Marisha already unbuttoning her shirt and kissing down her sternum.

He shifts Ashley up so she’s straddling his hips, taking the pressure off his cock, his hands hovering against the top button of her shirt. “May I?”

When she says, “Sure,” he undoes her buttons, kissing the skin that’s exposed, and pushes the shirt off her shoulders before unhooking her bra and watching as she throws it aside, hands cupping her bare breasts.

“Take this off,” she demands, pulling at the hem of his T-shirt; and as he sits up he notices Laura’s topless as well, eyes screwed shut and mouth falling open, her hand fisted in Marisha’s hair as she closes her lips around one breast, and Ashley smirks when she sees him looking.

She pushes him back to the mattress with an open palm and drags her breasts along his bare chest as she climbs up his body, and he surges up to capture a nipple in his mouth.

For a while he uses his hands and his mouth and just enjoys the noises they’re all making, until Ashley kisses a line from the hollow of his throat up to his ear and says there, “So, word is you’re pretty good with your mouth.”

“I don’t know who’s been talking,” Sam lies, “but it’s absolutely true.”

He can hear her smirking. “Prove it.”

“Gladly.”

He rolls her over and kisses his way down her body to her waistband, promptly running out of mattress. “Pillow?”

“Pillow for Sam!” Ashley calls out, and Marisha grabs a pillow from the head of the bed and flings it at him without taking either her eyes or her mouth off Laura; he catches it an inch from his face and puts it under his knees, before pulling Ashley’s pajama pants and her panties down and off in one go, and throwing her legs over his shoulders.

When he puts his mouth on her she curses and digs her fingernails into his scalp, which he decides to take as a compliment.

It’s a very long time since he’s done this for someone other than his wife, but he hasn’t lost his touch, if the noises she makes are anything to go by; she’s wonderfully reactive, moaning and rolling her hips, drumming her heels against his back every time he hits a particularly good spot.

He takes his time, and his tongue’s starting to ache by the time he flicks it back and forth in earnest against her clit, but doing this has always been its own reward, from her throaty moans to the trembling of her thighs under his hands, and there’s nothing he loves more than a partner who’s vocal in their appreciation.

He keeps working her over with his tongue as he slides two fingers inside her, and when he crooks them it turns out that’s the trick – and she comes on a wave of sharp moans that build and then break, and he laps up the resulting rush of slick until she pushes him away, and smiles at her around his fingers as he sucks them clean.

“Whew.” She smiles back at him in tired satisfaction, pressing a thumb into his dimple. “Not bad.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but she’s already rolling away, nearly kicking him in the face as she presses up against Laura’s side and starts kissing her, one hand reaching up to cup her breast. Marisha’s head is still between Laura’s legs and there’s no real room for him too, so he gets up on the bed behind Ashley, wincing as his knees protest, and lies down to watch.

It doesn’t surprise him at all that Laura can’t keep still: she’s got one hand woven into Marisha’s hair and the other on Ashley’s neck, and is writhing between them as she moans half into Ashley’s mouth, and Sam puts a hand on Ashley’s waist and tucks his hips against her ass. He’s hard, has been for a while, but he wants to enjoy this first, enjoy the sight of them enjoying each other.

When Laura comes, she makes these _oh-oh-oh _noises like she’s discovered something new and unexpectedly wonderful, which he hopes she has. 

As she relaxes into the afterglow, Marisha pushes herself up on her elbows, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

“Good?” Sam asks lightly.

Laura turns her head to look at him, smile wide and eyes heavy-lidded. “If I’d known about this in college, I think Travis would have had some stiff competition.”

He reaches past Ashley’s head and brushes his knuckles over her cheek. “Damn right.”

Marisha’s unfolding herself from the end of the bed, face glistening; when Sam pats the mattress on his other side and raises his eyebrows in invitation, her answering smile is a little startled, but she still clambers up beside him and tucks herself under his arm, something endearing in the awkwardness of her limbs.

He angles his body towards hers, and places a hand on her jaw. “May I?”

She hesitates. “I’m kinda sticky?”

“Exactly.” He drops to a stage-whisper. “I wanna lick it off.”

“_Oh. _Yeah. Sure.”

He holds her head still as he kisses away Laura’s wetness with bold swirls of his tongue, Marisha’s hand resting on his hip as she slots her body against his.

When he kisses down her neck, she giggles. “This is weird.”

“Which part?” he murmurs against her neck, and raises her head when she says, “Me and you.”

“Sex is just committing to the bit,” he quips, not mentioning that it’s a line he pinched from Twitter, and smiles when she laughs. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” He’d recognize that famous Marisha Ray determination anywhere. “You came highly recommended.”

“Feel free to try me out,” he replies; and behind him Laura says, “You sit on his face, I’ll sit on his dick.”

“Sam?” Marisha asks, though it comes out more than a little breathy as he gets one hand inside her bra.

“Please. Be my guest.” 

He’s not sure he can think of a better place to be than beneath the two of them, and he lets Marisha nudge him onto his back and put a pillow lengthways under his head, watching with a pleasant curl of anticipation as Ashley helps her lose her pants.

As she swings a leg over his head he catches a glimpse of fiery red hair before she’s on him, and he wraps his hands around her thighs to steady her and licks open the seam of her labia in one bold stripe to find her already dripping, smiling against her flesh when she groans, deep and hungry.

For a moment she puts her hands over his, and squeezes.

It’s different like this: he doesn’t have nearly as much room to move, to experiment, and finds himself kissing with his lips as much as using his tongue, trusting her to take what she needs from him, rocking her hips against his mouth as her thighs clamp against his head.

The mattress shifts beneath him as someone else – Ashley? – straddles his chest, knees in his armpits, and he lets out an unsteady breath as he pictures her in front of Marisha, kissing, touching, regretting it a little when Marisha moans again and shifts in such a way as to seriously limit his air supply.

When Laura taps his hips, he plants his feet and pushes up to try and help her get his pajama pants off, but Marisha doesn’t let up for a moment and Ashley’s weight is more or less pinning his chest in place, and he hears Laura grumbling something as he shifts, and a scatter of laughter.

He tries to keep focused on Marisha as Laura pulls his pants and boxers off in one swift movement – not that he’s in any danger of forgetting her as she grinds down against him in search of more stimulation, and he wraps his lips around her clit and starts to suckle, immediately rewarded by her unsteady moan, and the way she shudders above him. She’s noisy now, and she’s not the only one – _ Ashley, _he thinks, he can feel something pressing against his chest that he thinks is Marisha’s hand, imagines her reaching between Ashley’s legs as they kiss, hands on each other’s tits – 

– and then there’s a mouth around the head of his cock and he groans against Marisha’s clit, and then _ she _ groans –

_ Fuck, fuck _is all he can think, his mind blank with pleasure as Laura’s mouth slides down his cock, warm and wet and glorious, then back up to swirl her tongue around the head; in his mind’s eye he can see the sparkle in her eyes, and perhaps he’s a little more vocal than he normally would be, but when it triggers a moan from Marisha every time then how can he not?

Laura pulls her mouth off him far too soon, and he recognizes the feeling of her rolling a condom onto his cock – when a yank on his hair makes him realize he’s stilled, and he obediently starts moving his mouth against Marisha again as the mattress shifts once more, and he groans deep in his throat as he feels Laura sinking down onto his cock.

He reaches a hand down and finds her knee, squeezing as she raises herself up and drops down, the fingers of his other hand digging into Marisha’s thigh as he works her clit with quick flicks of his tongue, Ashley moving over his chest as Laura finds her rhythm.

It feels _ fantastic, _but what’s even better is knowing they’re all getting off on this, hearing their moans of pleasure, Marisha’s cunt against his mouth and Laura on his cock – and he reaches blindly for Ashley and slides his own hand alongside Marisha’s, though he’s got no hope of keeping yet another rhythm and manages little more than letting Ashley rock wet against his fingers, letting them all take, take, take.

His tongue’s aching by the time Marisha’s moans start to build, as she presses down so hard against his mouth that he can hardly breathe at all; and just as he’s starting to get light-headed she cries out and shakes apart above him, and he presses his tongue against the entrance of her cunt and laps up every drop, Laura and Ashley crying out too a moment later, and between the sounds they’re making and the feeling of Laura’s cunt squeezing tight around him he can’t hold back any longer, coming so hard he actually feels a little dazed.

When Marisha climbs off him a few moments later, both the light and air are a lot suddenly, and he sucks in a sharp breath and coughs. Laura and Ashley are moving too, collapsing to the side like dominoes, and he looks down his body – sweat and slick on his chest, all over one hand, the come-filled condom on his softening cock, the tight sticky feeling on his face – and smiles.

He goes and cleans himself up, and brushes his teeth for good measure, coming back a few minutes later free of bodily fluids to find them all still naked under the covers, trading kisses. They’ve left just enough space for him.

“Hey.” He slides in behind Laura, putting a hand on her waist, and smiles when she turns just far enough to kiss him on the corner of the mouth. “Everyone good?”

“Yeah,” Ashley and Laura reply, as Marisha says, “_Fuck _ yes.” 

He laughs. “Good,” he says, and immediately has to stifle a yawn as his body tells him firmly that they’re in bed now, and bed means sleep. “What are our sleeping arrangements?”

“Two people here and one with me,” Marisha replies. “I really don’t care who.”

“Best Detectives here?” Laura suggests, leaning back against Sam.

“And Sentinel Babes next door,” Ashley agrees, pressing a lingering kiss to Marisha’s lips before reluctantly getting up. “See you in there.”

They all go clean themselves up, leaving Sam lying in bed with the bedside lamp still on, letting himself drift, considering putting his T-shirt back on before deciding there’s no point, when Laura’s seen all there is to see anyway.

When she comes back she’s not wearing her pajamas but a much smaller tank-and-shorts combo, and he waits for her to get in beside him before reaching out and clicking the light off.

When he says, “I hope you want to practise cuddling as well,” she snorts, but scoots back and fits the curve of her body against his as he wraps his arm around her, palm resting on her bare stomach where her tank’s ridden up.

“Gonna sleep well tonight,” she murmurs. “All fucked out.”

Sam smiles. “Mission successful.” He pauses. “Did it meet your expectations?”

“Yeah. It really did. Still didn’t eat any pussy though.”

“Well, there’s always the morning. I can’t imagine Marisha would mind waking up with your mouth on her. If you ask nicely I’ll even make you all pancakes.”

It’s dark in the room, but he doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s smiling. “You’re such a gentleman.”

“All I ask in return is for you to tell Liam I found the clitoris.” He bends his head and presses a kiss to her hair. “Sleep?”

“Way ahead of you,” Laura mumbles, and it’s barely a minute before her breathing slows and deepens, body going slack in his arms.

He falls asleep himself not long after, pleasantly sated, and dreams of pancakes.


End file.
